


Good Boy

by RavenWhitecastle



Series: The Sinner and the Saint [14]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, Collars, Dom Harold Finch, Dom/sub Undertones, Humiliation, Implied Sexual Content, Leashes, M/M, Master/Pet, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sub John Reese, Undercover, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, very mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 17:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14958650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenWhitecastle/pseuds/RavenWhitecastle
Summary: John and Harold have to go undercover at an underground club for pets and masters. Harold is hesitant, to say the least.





	Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Something a little bit different that I had to get on paper. Setting the stage for fics in the future. If it's not your cup of tea, don't read it.

“Are you certain this is a good idea?” Harold asked as he fiddled with the collar around John’s neck.

“You’ll be fine,” John assured him, “All you have to do is act like you would in the bedroom.” He smirked at Harold, who was already flustered.

“Which I am perfectly comfortable with behind closed doors, but this is entirely new territory for me.” To make his point, Harold dangled the other end of the leash in front of John’s face.

Their newest number was Vincent Price, the owner of an underground club called the Leather Leash. Harold’s research showed it was an elite hotspot for, simply put, human pets and their masters. Much like a BDSM event, the Leather Leash was a sexual lounge where members could indulge their fantasies while also getting a few drinks and chatting up other members about the lifestyle. Harold had been hesitant, to say the least.

“There has to be another way to monitor Mr. Price,” he’d suggested, “It’s hard to imagine believably infiltrating the Leather Leash in order to get close.”

John had shrugged. “I think we can pull it off. Besides, Vincent Price is a dangerous man. He’ll likely go after his target on his own turf, and we can’t keep them safe if we don’t get inside the club with him.” John adjusted his shirt cuffs, adding, “We just have to get on the members list.”

Harold crossed his arms pointedly. “And who do you suggest we pose as?”

John put his hands in his pockets. It was mildly amusing to see Harold so flustered. “Well, I’d imagine one of us will be the pet and one of us will be the master.”

Harold rolled his eyes. “I supposed you think you’re funny.”

John chuckled. “Relax. You’ll be a natural at it.”

"At what?"

“Being the master, of course.”

So there they were taking the elevator to the club, having acquired all the necessary equipment- a leash and collar with a tag. They decided John’s pet name should be Bear, since they already had the tag for it. John was posing as John “Bear” Carson, and Harold was his master, Mr. Kingfisher.

They’d gone over the basic ground rules and rehearsed the parts they intended to play. Harold was still uncertain about the nature of the mission, fidgeting and shuffling during the ride up to the top floor. John put his hand on Harold’s shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. Just order me around and they’ll buy every word. They’ll probably be busy with _other_ activities, anyway.”

Harold shuddered. “This is far outside my comfort zone." After thinking a moment, Harold asked, Should I be worried about you?”

John tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Are you certain you can remain professional? I know how you are about… dominance.”

John tugged at his collar, making the nametag jingle. “Just focus on staying in character, and I’ll handle the rest.”

The club was a high rise penthouse that had been renovated to Price’s specifications. There were three levels of security, which Finch’s carefully crafted identities passed with flying colors. All they had to do was give their names at the door, and they were in.

The interior of the club was dimly lit for the sake of discretion. Couples of every variation were sprawled out across the club, lounging on couches or pressed up against the wall. Some of the couples looked as clean-cut as John and Harold did, displaying their wealth with fancy suits and designer collars. Some of the younger pets had donned accessories to fit their roles, like ears and tails. To Harold’s credit, he didn't avert his eyes, as much as John imagined he wanted to. Instead, Harold led John calmly through the crowd to find a seat at the back.

They approached a group of pets and masters sitting around an expensive-looking glass table. Harold asked, “May we join you?”

The oldest of the masters- a silver-haired gentleman with a perky young blonde at his heels- smiled and raised his glass in Harold’s direction. “Of course. Have a seat.”

Harold took his place in the empty leather chair to his left. He crossed his legs and placed his hands on the armrests, appearing quite comfortable. Looking up at John above his glasses, Harold commanded, “Sit.”

John obeyed, kneeling on the floor beside Harold. It wasn’t the most comfortable positions, but he forgot all about the hard concrete under his knees when Harold ran his hand through John’s hair and murmured, “Good boy.” A shiver of pleasure ran through him and his nerves settled.

Harold continued to pet John absentmindedly as he carried on conversation with the other masters. John wasn’t paying attention to what they were talking about. He was too busy looking for their number, Vincent Price. Still, he was hyper aware of Harold’s presence- his cool voice, clipped responses, and sophisticated air that came with his dominant streak.

A brief time later, John spotted Price following someone into the restroom behind the bar- employees only. If he was going to do something violent, it would be the perfect place, and the best available location that wasn’t outside the club. John tried to catch Harold’s eye, but Harold was resolutely ignoring him. Of course he would stay in character now.

Softly, John cleared his throat. Harold’s eyes were on him in an instant. So he had been paying attention, but clearly didn’t want to blow their covers. He watched John coldly for a moment before prompting him, “Yes, Bear?”

“I…” John started, until the grey-haired gentleman glared at him. Leaning in, he whispered, “Master, I have to go.”

Harold raised an eyebrow, appearing unamused. After a moment, he sighed and waved a dismissive hand. “Fine.” He leaned down to unclip John’s leash. “Make it quick.”

John bowed his head. He found it surprisingly easy to slip into the submissive role, probably due to how much practice he had in the bedroom. With his head down, John hurried off to the bathroom after Price. He ducked past the bartender unnoticed and slipped inside.

Price had one of his employees pinned up against the wall, a waiter that had rejected his advances. Price knew how to hold a grudge.

“Hey!” John shouted, distracting Price from his victim, “Didn’t anyone teach you not to touch what isn’t yours?”

Price loosened his grip on the waiter and glared. “What are you doing in here?” he growled, “Where’s your master? I need to have a word with him about discipline.”

John smirked. “My master sent me to stop you. Heel!” John decked Price across the face. The waiter yelped and ducked into a stall, locking himself in as Price and John fought each other. Price got in one good hit, splitting John’s lip open, but John knocked him out in two more hits. Depositing Price in another stall, John pointed and said, “Now stay.” He smirked at the image of Harold smacking him for being “unprofessional.” Then he remembered that Harold was still waiting for him outside.

John knocked lightly on the door to the stall where the waiter was hiding. There was a startled cry and the waiter whimpered, “Please don’t hurt me!”

“I’m not going to hurt you. I was here for Price.”

The door unlocked after a second, and the waiter poked his head out. He was trembling. “You what?”

“I came to stop Price from hurting you. He’s been dealt with for now, but I suggest you find a new job.”

The waiter nodded, quietly thanking John before darting out of the bathroom. John glanced at his own reflection. He was a little bloody and starting to bruise, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He wiped his lip on his sleeve and returned to the club.

Harold could barely hold his composure when he saw the state John was in. Concern flickered across his face, his eyes widened, and his fists clenched. Clearing his throat, he asked, “What the hell happened to you?”

John knelt beside Harold and answered, “Disagreement with another pet. Sir.”

The silver-haired man pet his blonde and commented. “It happens. Not every night, but it’s certainly not uncommon.” He took a sip of scotch before adding to Harold, “It’s always the pretty ones you need to look out for. You need to get him under control.”

Harold attached John’s leash to his collar and stood. “Well said, Graham.” Apparently, Harold had made some new friends.

John moved to stand, but Harold stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Down boy. You’ll get up when I tell you to get up.”

Gritting his teeth, John bowed his head. Harold was going to make John crawl to the exit. It was meant to be humiliating. Harold was making an example of him for “bad behavior.” But John felt himself growing hard at the thought of Harold forcing him to his knees. It reminded him of the first time Harold had taken control, back in the library.

“Gentlemen,” Harold said, bidding the current company good night, “I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer. But we all know misbehavior can’t go unpunished.”

Graham nodded in agreement. “Night, Harold.”

With that, they started moving. For once, John found it hard to keep up with Harold, despite his uneven hobble. Harold gave him a gentle tug on his leash for show. As they exited, one of the pets hissed at John, shooting him a disapproving glance. John resisted the urge to snarl back.

Outside, the doorman chuckled at the sight of John on his knees and gave Harold a knowing look. “Bit of a rowdy one, eh?”

Harold sighed. “You have no idea. But I think that’s quite enough of that.” Bending down, he asked John, “Have you learned your lesson?”

John looked up at him through thick lashes with adoring blue eyes. “Yes, Master.”

Harold hummed. “Good boy. Up.” John stood, and they walked to the elevator, the doorman waving goodbye as the doors closed.

Once they were safely alone, Harold dropped his dominant façade and launched into hovering over John. He unclipped John’s collar with ease and slipped it in his pocket. “Sorry, John,” he murmured, running a hand through John’s hair, “They would have gotten suspicious, we had to get out without raising the alarms before anyone found Price.”

“It’s all right,” John replied, leaning into Harold’s touch.

With his other hand, Harold gently touched John’s split lip. “Does it hurt?” he asked.

“Price didn’t go down without a fight, but it’s nothing,” John replied, trying to brush it off.

Harold wasn’t having it. “The swelling’s pretty serious. We’ll get you some ice when we get home. Are your knees all right?”

John smiled fondly at Harold’s concern. “They hardly ache. Don’t worry so much.”

“I’ve made it my business to worry about you. I-”

The elevator dinged, and Harold stopped fussing. John folded his hands in front of himself. A couple of girls got on. They cast sideways glances at the two men as the elevator descended to their floor. When they got off, they were giggling excitedly.

Once the doors shut again, Harold finished, “I’m proud of you.”

John shifted, his hands still crossed in front of him. “Do we have to wait until we get home to… ahem…” He looked pointedly down.

Harold chuckled, smiling knowingly and pressing a button. “There’s an empty suite on this floor,” he said, “You get a treat since you’ve been good.”

If John had had a tail, it would have been wagging.


End file.
